


Last Of The Real Ones

by elfofthedarkside



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Depression, F/M, Love Confessions, M/M, Melancholy fluff, Mentions of Death, Other, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Sad and Sweet, but they're probably fine, everything gives off a suicidal vibe, is that a thing?, or really any time before mania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15096791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfofthedarkside/pseuds/elfofthedarkside
Summary: "When I’m dead, people who didn’t know me are gonna ask people who did about me, and it’s- they’re gonna say the same shit. ‘Oh, he was nice. He had a creative soul. He had a hard life, but he was nice.’ Promise you won’t let that happen.”“What do you mean?”“When I die, you won’t say bullshit.”





	1. She/Her

**Author's Note:**

> How's life? Mine has sucked major demon ass these last couple days, and I wrote this to make myself feel better (and kinda also for my friend. Mikey, dude, this is for you). It's fluffy and sad and made me cry, and I know some of you guys feel like shit too so I wanted to spread the love. I did different pronouns cause love shouldn't be constrained to one fucking gender. Let everyone feel the love, goddamnit.
> 
> Ch. 1 - She/Her  
> Ch. 2 - He/Him  
> Ch. 3 - They/Them

“Fuck.”

You turn to look at Pete, who is curled up watching some shitty crime show with you. “What is it?”

He gestures towards the tv. “That. Just… when I’m dead, people who didn’t know me are gonna ask people who  _ did _ about me, and it’s- they’re gonna say the same shit.  _ ‘Oh, he was nice. He had a creative soul. He had a hard life, but he was nice.’ _ ” He meets your eyes. “They’ll say worthless words, utterly meaningless. And if all they remember about me is meaningless… what does that…” His voice drops quieter. “That means I didn’t matter even when I was alive. That’s the fucking… scariest thing.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. “Yeah. That would be awful.”

“Promise you won’t let that happen.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves his arm so he’s leaning against it while he looks at you. “When I die, you won’t say bullshit.”

You attempt a smile. “Assuming I outlive you? Bold words.”

“Promise.” Pete looks close to crying. Well, lack of sleep will do that to a man. Still, it’s not like you won’t.

“I promise.”

He sighs, slumping down onto his back once more. “Good.”

The show’s dialogue is lost on both of you. After a few more moments of silence between you, Pete speaks up again. “What would you say?”

“If you died?”

He nods. “I’m gone. Some well-meaning sap asks you,  _ “oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. I never really knew him; what was he like?’ _ ”

You think for a second. “Well…” You look up and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. “He was… an asshole.” You pause appropriately for Pete to chuckle. “But not just that. We were both majorly fucked in one way or the other. We kind of leaned on each other. But I knew it was special, what we had. Because… because whenever he came to me, for help, or- or just for me to listen, I didn’t mind it. It was never a chore. I  _ wanted _ to do it for him, because I knew I was helping him feel better, even if only for a couple minutes.” Your voice wavers, eyes starting to water. “And… and I knew he felt the same way about me. He didn’t care if I needed help, he didn’t think I was a burden, or annoying. He… he cared about me.”

You glance over at Pete, who is staring at you. “Really?” His voice is even quieter.

“Really.” You stop again. “And maybe he wasn’t… fully  _ happy _ leading up to his death, but I’d like to think that at the ripe old age of 86-”

_ “-Fuck!” _

You laugh. “-he’s smiling down contentedly from wherever he is.”

“Or screaming, terrified,  _ up _ from wherever I am.”

“Fuck off.” You look back up. “And it got to the point where whenever he walked in the room, I’d feel happy. Pavlovian shit, I guess, but he had a contagious energy. He had a smile that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, would spread to you until your face ached.” A pause. “He’s the only person that could do that to me.”

Pete doesn’t say anything else, just wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you closer. You sigh, feeling his heartbeat against your side. There’s another lull in the conversation, but it’s nicer this time.

Still…

“My turn?”

Pete blinks, turning to look at you. “What?”

You smile gently. “What would you say if I was gone?” You poke him in the ribs. “Compliment me, peon.”

Pete laughs softly, then his expression sobers. “She was…” He stops, thinking. “All my life, I had been a black hole. Everyone that tried to get near me, I’d destroy everything until there was nothing left, not even a tiny beam of light. I thought I’d be stuck, dark, alone, forever.

“But she, she was a supernova. She shined, burned flame-bright, gold, blue, red, green, orange, purple. Beautiful. When  _ she _ got near me, she didn’t fade. She… she got brighter. And instead of being absorbed, she bounced off of me. And I…” His voice breaks. “And suddenly I shined, too.”

You feel tears wet your skin as he tucks his face into your neck. You start to speak, but he isn’t finished.

“I would do anything for her,  _ anything _ to make her feel better.” His warm breath vibrating against your skin sends shivers through you. “My world revolved around her. If I was a solar system, she was the sun.

“When I looked around at other people around me, when I looked at myself, it always felt off. Like, they were humans, with sentience and could walk and talk and laugh. But it wasn’t… they had no drive, no purpose. It was like we lived in a false world, but she was different. She was the only one, the- the last one that was  _ real. _ ” There’s a lump rising in your throat as his grip around you tightens, almost as if he doesn’t want you to fade away into a dream. “And everytime I thought of her, my brain would be useless for anything else. I couldn’t think but of her. My mind was like… like a screw that had been stripped from being tightened too many times. I… I can’t do anything when I think of her.”

“Think?” You manage, tears streaking down your face to match his. “Present? I thought I was gone.”

You can feel his smile against your neck. “Even if I outlive you, you’ll always be a present tense.” He presses a kiss there. “I don’t have a joke to end on, sorry.”

“In exchange for a full-on eulogy?” You blink your stinging eyes, smiling. “I think I can deal.”

You turn, meeting his lips with yours. “I think I might love you,” you whisper. His response is barely a suggestion of breath.

“I think I might love you, too.”


	2. He/Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's life? Mine has sucked major demon ass these last couple days, and I wrote this to make myself feel better (and kinda also for my friend. Mikey, dude, this is for you). It's fluffy and sad and made me cry, and I know some of you guys feel like shit too so I wanted to spread the love. I did different pronouns cause love shouldn't be constrained to one fucking gender. Let everyone feel the love, goddamnit.
> 
> Ch. 1 - She/Her  
> Ch. 2 - He/Him  
> Ch. 3 - They/Them

“Fuck.”

You turn to look at Pete, who is curled up watching some shitty crime show with you. “What is it?”

He gestures towards the tv. “That. Just… when I’m dead, people who didn’t know me are gonna ask people who  _ did _ about me, and it’s- they’re gonna say the same shit.  _ ‘Oh, he was nice. He had a creative soul. He had a hard life, but he was nice.’ _ ” He meets your eyes. “They’ll say worthless words, utterly meaningless. And if all they remember about me is meaningless… what does that…” His voice drops quieter. “That means I didn’t matter even when I was alive. That’s the fucking… scariest thing.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. “Yeah. That would be awful.”

“Promise you won’t let that happen.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves his arm so he’s leaning against it while he looks at you. “When I die, you won’t say bullshit.”

You attempt a smile. “Assuming I outlive you? Bold words.”

“Promise.” Pete looks close to crying. Well, lack of sleep will do that to a man. Still, it’s not like you won’t.

“I promise.”

He sighs, slumping down onto his back once more. “Good.”

The show’s dialogue is lost on both of you. After a few more moments of silence between you, Pete speaks up again. “What would you say?”

“If you died?”

He nods. “I’m gone. Some well-meaning sap asks you,  _ “oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. I never really knew him; what was he like?’ _ ”

You think for a second. “Well…” You look up and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. “He was… an asshole.” You pause appropriately for Pete to chuckle. “But not just that. We were both majorly fucked in one way or the other. We kind of leaned on each other. But I knew it was special, what we had. Because… because whenever he came to me, for help, or- or just for me to listen, I didn’t mind it. It was never a chore. I  _ wanted _ to do it for him, because I knew I was helping him feel better, even if only for a couple minutes.” Your voice wavers, eyes starting to water. “And… and I knew he felt the same way about me. He didn’t care if I needed help, he didn’t think I was a burden, or annoying. He… he cared about me.”

You glance over at Pete, who is staring at you. “Really?” His voice is even quieter.

“Really.” You stop again. “And maybe he wasn’t… fully  _ happy _ leading up to his death, but I’d like to think that at the ripe old age of 86-”

_ “-Fuck!” _

You laugh. “-he’s smiling down contentedly from wherever he is.”

“Or screaming, terrified,  _ up _ from wherever I am.”

“Fuck off.” You look back up. “And it got to the point where whenever he walked in the room, I’d feel happy. Pavlovian shit, I guess, but he had a contagious energy. He had a smile that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, would spread to you until your face ached.” A pause. “He’s the only person that could do that to me.”

Pete doesn’t say anything else, just wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you closer. You sigh, feeling his heartbeat against your side. There’s another lull in the conversation, but it’s nicer this time.

Still…

“My turn?”

Pete blinks, turning to look at you. “What?”

You smile gently. “What would you say if I was gone?” You poke him in the ribs. “Compliment me, peon.”

Pete laughs softly, then his expression sobers. “He was…” He stops, thinking. “All my life, I had been a black hole. Everyone that tried to get near me, I’d destroy everything until there was nothing left, not even a tiny beam of light. I thought I’d be stuck, dark, alone, forever.

“But he, he was a supernova. He shined, burned flame-bright, gold, blue, red, green, orange, purple. Beautiful. When  _ he _ got near me, he didn’t fade. He… he got brighter. And instead of being absorbed, he bounced off of me. And I…” His voice breaks. “And suddenly I shined, too.”

You feel tears wet your skin as he tucks his face into your neck. You start to speak, but he isn’t finished.

“I would do anything for him,  _ anything _ to make him feel better.” His warm breath vibrating against your skin sends shivers through you. “My world revolved around him. If I was a solar system, he was the sun.

“When I looked around at other people around me, when I looked at myself, it always felt off. Like, they were humans, with sentience and could walk and talk and laugh. But it wasn’t… they had no drive, no purpose. It was like we lived in a false world, but he was different. He was the only one, the- the last one that was  _ real. _ ” There’s a lump rising in your throat as his grip around you tightens, almost as if he doesn’t want you to fade away into a dream. “And everytime I thought of him, my brain would be useless for anything else. I couldn’t think but of him. My mind was like… like a screw that had been stripped from being tightened too many times. I… I can’t do anything when I think of him.”

“Think?” You manage, tears streaking down your face to match his. “Present? I thought I was gone.”

You can feel his smile against your neck. “Even if I outlive you, you’ll always be a present tense.” He presses a kiss there. “I don’t have a joke to end on, sorry.”

“In exchange for a full-on eulogy?” You blink your stinging eyes, smiling. “I think I can deal.”

You turn, meeting his lips with yours. “I think I might love you,” you whisper. His response is barely a suggestion of breath.

“I think I might love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For real, I hope you're having a better life than I am, and if you're not I promise you're not a burden. Talk to someone. If you ain't got friends, talk to me. I suck at talking, but I'm majoring in Professional Listening. Someone loves you. You're the last of the real ones.


	3. They/Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's life? Mine has sucked major demon ass these last couple days, and I wrote this to make myself feel better (and kinda also for my friend. Mikey, dude, this is for you). It's fluffy and sad and made me cry, and I know some of you guys feel like shit too so I wanted to spread the love. I did different pronouns cause love shouldn't be constrained to one fucking gender. Let everyone feel the love, goddamnit.
> 
> Ch. 1 - She/Her  
> Ch. 2 - He/Him  
> Ch. 3 - They/Them

“Fuck.”

You turn to look at Pete, who is curled up watching some shitty crime show with you. “What is it?”

He gestures towards the tv. “That. Just… when I’m dead, people who didn’t know me are gonna ask people who  _ did _ about me, and it’s- they’re gonna say the same shit.  _ ‘Oh, he was nice. He had a creative soul. He had a hard life, but he was nice.’ _ ” He meets your eyes. “They’ll say worthless words, utterly meaningless. And if all they remember about me is meaningless… what does that…” His voice drops quieter. “That means I didn’t matter even when I was alive. That’s the fucking… scariest thing.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. “Yeah. That would be awful.”

“Promise you won’t let that happen.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves his arm so he’s leaning against it while he looks at you. “When I die, you won’t say bullshit.”

You attempt a smile. “Assuming I outlive you? Bold words.”

“Promise.” Pete looks close to crying. Well, lack of sleep will do that to a man. Still, it’s not like you won’t.

“I promise.”

He sighs, slumping down onto his back once more. “Good.”

The show’s dialogue is lost on both of you. After a few more moments of silence between you, Pete speaks up again. “What would you say?”

“If you died?”

He nods. “I’m gone. Some well-meaning sap asks you,  _ “oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. I never really knew him; what was he like?’ _ ”

You think for a second. “Well…” You look up and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. “He was… an asshole.” You pause appropriately for Pete to chuckle. “But not just that. We were both majorly fucked in one way or the other. We kind of leaned on each other. But I knew it was special, what we had. Because… because whenever he came to me, for help, or- or just for me to listen, I didn’t mind it. It was never a chore. I  _ wanted _ to do it for him, because I knew I was helping him feel better, even if only for a couple minutes.” Your voice wavers, eyes starting to water. “And… and I knew he felt the same way about me. He didn’t care if I needed help, he didn’t think I was a burden, or annoying. He… he cared about me.”

You glance over at Pete, who is staring at you. “Really?” His voice is even quieter.

“Really.” You stop again. “And maybe he wasn’t… fully  _ happy _ leading up to his death, but I’d like to think that at the ripe old age of 86-”

_ “-Fuck!” _

You laugh. “-he’s smiling down contentedly from wherever he is.”

“Or screaming, terrified,  _ up _ from wherever I am.”

“Fuck off.” You look back up. “And it got to the point where whenever he walked in the room, I’d feel happy. Pavlovian shit, I guess, but he had a contagious energy. He had a smile that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, would spread to you until your face ached.” A pause. “He’s the only person that could do that to me.”

Pete doesn’t say anything else, just wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you closer. You sigh, feeling his heartbeat against your side. There’s another lull in the conversation, but it’s nicer this time.

Still…

“My turn?”

Pete blinks, turning to look at you. “What?”

You smile gently. “What would you say if I was gone?” You poke him in the ribs. “Compliment me, peon.”

Pete laughs softly, then his expression sobers. “They were…” He stops, thinking. “All my life, I had been a black hole. Everyone that tried to get near me, I’d destroy everything until there was nothing left, not even a tiny beam of light. I thought I’d be stuck, dark, alone, forever.

“But they, they were a supernova. They shined, burned flame-bright, gold, blue, red, green, orange, purple. Beautiful. When  _ they _ got near me, they didn’t fade. They… they got brighter. And instead of being absorbed, they bounced off of me. And I…” His voice breaks. “And suddenly I shined, too.”

You feel tears wet your skin as he tucks his face into your neck. You start to speak, but he isn’t finished.

“I would do anything for them,  _ anything _ to make them feel better.” His warm breath vibrating against your skin sends shivers through you. “My world revolved around them. If I was a solar system, they were the sun.

“When I looked around at other people around me, when I looked at myself, it always felt off. Like, everyone were humans, with sentience and could walk and talk and laugh. But it wasn’t… the others had no drive, no purpose. It was like we lived in a false world, but they were different. They were the only one, the- the last one that was  _ real. _ ” There’s a lump rising in your throat as his grip around you tightens, almost as if he doesn’t want you to fade away into a dream. “And everytime I thought of them, my brain would be useless for anything else. I couldn’t think but of them. My mind was like… like a screw that had been stripped from being tightened too many times. I… I can’t do anything when I think of them.”

“Think?” You manage, tears streaking down your face to match his. “Present? I thought I was gone.”

You can feel his smile against your neck. “Even if I outlive you, you’ll always be a present tense.” He presses a kiss there. “I don’t have a joke to end on, sorry.”

“In exchange for a full-on eulogy?” You blink your stinging eyes, smiling. “I think I can deal.”

You turn, meeting his lips with yours. “I think I might love you,” you whisper. His response is barely a suggestion of breath.

“I think I might love you, too.

**Author's Note:**

> For real, I hope you're having a better life than I am, and if you're not I promise you're not a burden. Talk to someone. If you ain't got friends, talk to me. I suck at talking, but I'm majoring in Professional Listening. Someone loves you. You're the last of the real ones.


End file.
